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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2191906
Romance began on the shores of a boyhood stream....
River

I brought you no showy flowers
for the flower you brought for me -
your quiet, seemingly simple beauty
brought us to a quivering sea
of eddies and pools spilling out,
the blossoming trees collectively
glow and smolder in turn by morning
and by the evening tide Sun sweet smelling,
with every wave of wind
as we two deeply trembled,
on our sides along the riffle's flow,
the heart rampant
in Love's velvet-smoothed seat saddled
within rapture's undertow -
the sprouting leaves, the petiole so smooth
was your touch that laid waste
to mine as much yet more so still
as we drank in the embrace
of the other's reach,
the tiny pebble and sand strewn beach
encompassed us as your curve upon curve
like an aspen quaked, an opening, grateful
seed pod begging for it's release,
I did all with my greatest might
to grant you a moment's ease
among the birches so shy and ladylike,
like the bee's hive that arrived on the senses
like the honeybee that seeks the early
Spring sap of the weeping willow tree,
that so abide to the flickering penetrations
of our willful tongues spoken
alas we - serpent-swooned -
lest our hearts be broken
upon that tiny smooth-pebbled beach
enclosed, protecting you from the panicle'd belief
that someone could see, someone might see
just us two, just us we
for in the Springtime noon's Light
I held you with a majestic might
for in your beauty there you remained,
the sweet 'n heady being
twas I in the making
not a Narcissus
in the making for me,
but all my love of your radiance
I could barely contain,
as fingers plummeted and grasped,
as breaths sighed and gasped,
I managed to refrain
from our falling over
the precipice unseen,
as the river gurgled like a baby
yet to be preened,
for not once, not twice but thrice
you warned me
with a downy langour,
softly, imploringly, lovingly
"Be careful, be careful!",
you said and no matter
it resulted, it relented
in our mouths locked lovingly
in the sighs of the afternoon
now pressed nigh
for this moment I still remember
how you were dressed
as we two hidden by the river,
alongside the riffle's run
our lives in the blink
of the proverbial eye had just begun,
the mayflies rising
from the surface riverine,
the trout rising in their glory,
some jumping clear of the current
lending a kind of urgent rapture
to the moment,
the breeze pushing through the leaves
as my fingers gently did your hair,
chestnut brown and finely placed
and smelling of the river fair -
voluptuous and delicate,
like honeysuckle blossoms upon the vine
again, yet again ... our fingers intertwined
what remained was shielded by cloth -
the fluted base ...
the porous root ...
the pendant pair ...
all refrained from playing their part,
yet the plaintive instinctive calling,
the crying out to the other
barely held back
again and again and again
kiss upon kiss felling
like trees to the saw
our teeth pulling on
bows and buttons together,
tumbling like racemes of flowers
down,
down,
down
below where the reddish tint
begat the greatest, most inviting hint
for like the proud
red oak that rubricates
for like the calyx of
the wild cherry that lubricates
so receptively, so plaintively,
the morning dew like a sap rising,
a swelling so surprising
we embraced with I atop -
then you exactly like me -
'tis the back 'n forth
of Love that granted us
the wisdom to see,
tis it were we
tis it were we
whom were drowning in
Love's perfect symmetry












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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2191906